Coming Home
by Mainecoon
Summary: Okay, I couldn't come up with a better title than that. Basically, Sam sets off for the lands beyond the sea and, with the help of an otter, an elf in a jester costume, and his sinister brother "Mr Needles," it turns into a quest to "rescue Frodo" and bri
1. Unlikely Heroes

_Author's Note: I came across this story while going through old files on my computer. At the time, I had no memory whatever of writing it. Now, I vaguely remember bits of it. :-P After doing a bit of math, I decided this was written about 2 years ago. In other words, there are probably pretty noticible faults in this story concerning both the geography of Middle Earth and the possibility of certain events. Also, there is a bit of the story that could barely pass as a crossover with ElfQuest, though only one of the characters from the series is even mentioned. Corrections concerning errors in the aforementioned geography etc. would be appreciated, if only for the sake of my own curiousity. Otherwise, I haven't done any editing to this story other than to change the spelling of one of the characters' names so it's read the same way it's pronounced (Aunie used to be spelled "Aune"). Anyway, on to the story itself..._  
  
Chapter 1: Unlikely Heroes.   
  
Sam looked up at the tall white ship. It was, no doubt, a beautiful ship; however, Sam was beginning to have doubts due to his prior experience with such things. The elves had assured him of the sturdy build and balance of the boat, but even so…  
It was a gray, foggy morning at the Gray Havens. To Sam, it looked like the whole world was turned permanently gray. He was reminded of the colorless days and nights spent in Mordor. Painfully, he remembered Frodo's face as he stood at the base of Mt. Doom.  
But Sam was unwilling to dwell on such thoughts. Soon he would see his master Frodo again. Unless…  
Yet again, Sam pushed such gloomy thoughts back. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Even more so now that the ship was being loaded and he was uselessly sitting on a crate full of dried meats. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on thoughts of home, of his garden in full bloom, of his children. Yet even these memories of things he was willingly leaving behind forever brought tears to his aging eyes.   
Eventually Sam settled on keeping his mind blank and concentrating with all his might on what little of the ship he could see through the thickening fog.   
  
Not far from the hobbit, two pairs of eyes looked out from the gloom. One pair, almond-shaped and golden, stared unblinkingly in Sam's direction. The other, wide and innocent with deep brown irises, wandered from the elves to the ship, occasionally blinking excitedly at the yellow cat eyes beside them.   
As the hustle and bustle of loading the ship wore on, a whispered conversation drifted from the lips of the owners of the eyes.  
'When do we leave?' asked the brown eyes.  
'Soon,' the glinting golden answered.  
'How?' the questioner persisted.  
'In that crate over there. The one with the little man on it.'  
'Is that… him?' the brown eyes widened.  
'Yes, but do not draw attention to yourself. There is a small opening on the back of the crate. The halfling will not see us. The question is, will he hear us?'  
'I can be quiet…'  
'…silent.'  
'Well, silent. If you really insist on creeping in there with him sitting on that crate.' The brown eyes looked at their companion eyes, showing annoyance at the snappy tone with their narrowed glare.  
'Shhhh.'  
'Doesn't that crate have supplies in it?'   
'Only enough to keep us going until we can find our way to the ship's pantry.'  
There was a pause. As the voices on the dock quieted signaling a decrease in the number of elves present, a soft voice said, 'Now.'  
Two shapes moved swiftly from the tall, thick sea grass to the crate upon which Sam sat brooding over the weather. Two agile hands crept along the bottom of the crate, then silently lifted the side. Both shadows disappeared and the crate returned to its former appearance.  
  
Sam was startled out of his non-thoughts by a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up at the tall elf standing there.  
'We need your crate,' said the elf with an apologetic smile. Sam nodded and allowed the elf to lift him off of his wooden perch and set him on the equally wooden dock.   
'What I wouldn't give to feel grass between my toes once more,' muttered Sam.  
'Did you say something?' The elf turned from the box.  
Sam shook his head and wandered down the dock, feeling even more useless than usual. He stopped beside the boat and stroked the smooth white surface with the tips of his fingers. Like all elven-made material he had known, he felt a certain softness in it. The strange sensation of the elf-wood beneath his fingers had Sam wishing once more for the simple comforts of home: ah, but they were long forgotten now. Shivering, Sam wondered how long it would be before he sat beside a warm fire again.  
Pulling his cloak closer around his shoulders, Sam wandered further down the dock and stood at the edge looking out into the colorless sea. Now and then a gull soared nearby on long outstretched wings, crying in its high voice. Sam hadn't yet made up his mind whether or not he liked the sound. It was, like all things effected by elves, strangely calming; but it was an unsettling calm-one that made you feel as if you really should be on your guard after all. Or perhaps, thought Sam, it's just the cursed fog and cold.  
Ignored, shivering, and utterly alone, Sam leaned against a tall pillar on the dock and smiled to himself. Perhaps is was just the cold affecting him, or maybe the touch of the elf ship had set some magic in him and made him think of happier things. But happy memories or sad, Sam was again lost in the twisting labyrinth of his mind and stayed there until, hours later, a tall fair-haired elf gently took his shaking hand and led him onto the boat as if he really were still a child.  
  
'Can we get out of here yet?' The owner of the brown eyes was impatient.   
'No. Just wait.' The almond eyes were shut for the moment, either from weariness or annoyance.   
'But we've been at sea for hours. They can't just throw us back even if they did find us now.'  
There was a hesitant pause, then, 'All right, but let me go first.'  
The crate, now safely tucked in the corner of the ship's hold, slowly creaked open. The two mysterious figures tumbled helter-skelter onto the floor.   
'I told you not to lean against the door!' said the golden-eyed elf.  
The otter mumbled something that passed for an apology then began to scamper off to explore. A firm hand on her tail told her that she wasn't going anywhere. She turned and batted at the elf's hand. 'Pulin, let me go!'  
Pulin shook his head at the otter. 'I knew it was a mistake to bring you along.'  
'Now you just wait one moment,' said the otter. 'Who brought who along? If it wasn't for me, you'd still be selling used rings at that forgotten road in Mirkwood!'  
'Don't act so clever, Aunie,' warned the elf. 'Remember, we've both had a hand… or paw… in getting here safely.'  
Satisfied enough with that answer, Aunie sat down with a huff and fingered her dagger. Pulin left the otter to her "it's not fair" frame of mind and went off to explore what he could of the ship's hold.  
Aunie watched him disappear behind the stacked crates and sacks then climbed up into their hiding place. She came back out in a moment holding a dried fish in her mouth. Twisting her body as only otters can, she clawed her way to the top of the pile of crates and crouched there gnawing at her fish. She was beginning to figure out why adventures had their down-points. Dried fish and game for weeks with what little water they could find, cramped hiding places shared with cranky elves, the dark, the smell of the damp hold, and the endless threat of being discovered too soon, if at all. As she was pondering these points, she wondered if she shouldn't have brought some good rope with her…  
  
Above the stowaways, in fact, directly above the stowaways, Samwise Gamgee was huddled inside his room staring at the rain that fell steadily against the windowpane. Sam felt slightly cheered by the circular windows, even if prospects looked more dismal from them than they had before the ship had set sail.   
Sam had managed to set a small fire going in the metal stove, but it hadn't had time to warm the room properly yet. Sam marveled at the elves, who could seemingly tolerate any amount of cold and rain in only their tunics and cloaks. Tolerate? They loved it. At this very moment cam could see three of them drinking beer and singing merrily on the icy deck.   
When he got tired of looking at the wet elves and feeling his toes freeze right off his feet, Sam went over to the small wooden desk (placed conveniently next to the stove) and pulled out his private notes, which he had been keeping for Frodo since they last saw each other many years ago. They weren't much-nothing detailed or lengthy. They were just short records of births, marriages, and deaths; minor news from the Shire, notes concerning his family as well as Merry's and Pippin's. Here and there he had added a sketch of his garden, or a short description of Bilbo's old house in the snow. Generally, though, there wasn't much beyond the basics. Now, however, Sam began to write a flowing description of the boat and it's crew. He described the captain: a tall, strong elf of almost man-like stature. He was called Corbin, or raven in a language of men, because of his dark ash-colored skin. Sam described some of the stranger passengers as well, especially the mysterious Mr. Needles, who kept to himself and puttered about in his room with the shades constantly drawn. Strange sounds and occasional flashes of colored light could be seen from the bunk of Mr. Needles, who seemed to be neither elf, nor man, nor anything else even vaguely related to them. He was too tall to be called a dwarf or halfling. He simply could not be an elf, and no arguing. He didn't even resemble the fair-faced, almond-eyed beings. All in all he looked more like a very small troll than a man. Sam never saw him anywhere except lurking around in the shadows, wearing his long purple cloak. Sam wondered if he might be a wizard, and with that in mind, he kept his distance.  
Many days passed uneventfully. But one day, just as Sam was finishing the notes for that night, he heard a knock on his door. It was more like a scratching tap, really. Sam looked at the clock. It was past midnight. Sam peeked out of the window near the door, and, seeing no one, decided the person must be small enough to be considered relatively harmless. Even on a sacred elven ship, Sam could not shake his feelings of uneasiness. He opened the door and peered out.  
The wind howled, the rain splashed against his face, but at first glance, Sam saw nobody. He was about to shut the door but he caught sight of something, a small shape, skittering along the deck. Without fully knowing why, Sam stepped out the door. Before he knew it, he was following at a swift walk, then a run, after the shape he could now clearly see. Or rather he saw as clearly as one can see through stormy rains and fog.  
He pursued the shape down into the bowels of the ship. He could hear it skittering along, presumably on all four feet. The halls were dark, but in his mind's eye, Sam saw Gollum sneaking this way and that and eyeing him and Frodo with cold, heartless eyes. Sam drew his dagger and ran on, stumbling through the mazes of hallways under the ship's deck.   
The chase came to an abrupt halt as the creature fled to the hold and slammed the door behind it. Sam eased open the door to the hold and slipped in. The hold was dimly lit with several lanterns on the walls. Crates and bags were stacked to form their own series of hallways. Sam walked along, making no sound for fear of startling the creature to attack. Slowly he made his way along the twisting pathways until he found himself standing in a separate room blocked off by large crates that had obviously been stacked for the purpose of creating just such a room. It was a small space, to be sure, but it was littered with the signs of life. Fish bones and discarded wrappings were piled in one corner. Several sacks had been laid out as make-due beds-unmade beds, that is. Blankets of a type Sam had never seen were still scruffed up as if the inhabitants of this den had only just awakened from their night's rest. A few boxes were set up in the center as a table and chairs. Barrels of rainwater, apparently freshly filled, stood beside a tall stack of crates in the corner. It was from the topmost crate that Sam could hear scratching and the odd stifled whisper. Standing to the side of the obviously cut opening, Sam pushed open the crate.  
Two figures spilled out onto the floor. Sam stared at them, almost unable to believe what he was seeing… or hearing.  
'I told you never to go up there!' the elf dressed in jester's costume was saying.  
'But they're all asleep…' An otter wearing a short green hooded vest and a dagger was whining at the elf.  
'They're never ALL asleep! Now look what's happened: someone's followed you and probably found us and we'll get tossed out to sea or worse…'  
The elf was cut off from his rambling by Sam's giggles. Both elf and otter spun around with a look of terror in their eyes. Sam was leaning against their hiding place laughing hysterically at them. The stowaways exchanged glances and, after silently deciding Sam was not a threat for the moment, they settled on giving the laughing hobbit odd faces, which made him laugh even harder.   
When Sam was through being amused by Aunie and Pulin (who were still half-sprawled out on the floor where they had fallen from their "expert hiding place"), he stared at them with a grin on his face.  
'And what,' he giggled, 'May I ask, are you doing down here?'  
'Please don't turn us in!!!' Aunie pounced on Sam's feet and curled herself around them. 'Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease…'  
She would have gone on if Pulin hadn't whapped her over the head with a fish. Having temporarily quieted his otter companion, Pulin stood and bowed to the hobbit.   
'I apologize if my friend here woke you up,' he gave Aunie a swift kick with the toe of his boot. 'After all, she was disobeying my orders.'  
'Yeah, who died and made you captain?' Aunie muttered.   
Pulin gave her another kick and continued. '…But you see we were running out of water and since it's raining and all, we didn't think you would miss a little rainwater, especially since it never actually hit the deck, we got it first…'  
Sam interrupted the elf's babbling. 'That still doesn't explain what you're doing down here.'  
'We're coming with you,' said Aunie simply.   
This got her yet another kick from Pulin. 'Ow!' she cried out and, letting Sam's feet go, tackled Pulin's feet with all her strength, causing them both to go flying again. After a brief fight during which Sam could hear exclamations of 'I told you…!' and 'But you said…!' and 'I did nothing of the sort,' the elf and otter, tired out from a long day of spying and creeping and arguing, froze in their places having caught each other in hopelessly tangled positions. They sat there panting, Aunie still trying to wrap herself around Pulin's feet and neck at the same time, and Pulin making a fruitless attempt to tie Aunie's paws together with a string of sausages he had grabbed from a nearby carton.   
'Following me?' Sam's voice cut their death glares at each other short. Aunie reluctantly let go of Pulin's neck but wrapped tighter around his feet in hopes of preventing another unwanted rendezvous with his boot.  
'Yes, following you,' she answered. This succeeded in further enraging Pulin. He somehow managed to pull Aunie off his legs (no easy task for most) and leapt to his feet. Sam grabbed him just as he was about to inflict something more damaging than a kick on the now helpless Aunie, who had been knocked semi-unconscious, having been tossed against the wall. Luckily it was not a direct shot.  
'Hold on!' said Sam. The elf looked down at him and dropped his arm (and the string of sausages therein). 'Now tell me,' Sam continued, 'Why you are following me.'  
Pulin stuck out his chin and refused to speak, but Aunie, having somewhat recovered, answered: 'We are going to help you save Frodo.'  
'Save Frodo?' A note of uncertainty crept into the hobbit's voice. He raised an eyebrow and looked at Aunie.  
'Yes…' she said, trying to shake the ringing from her ears. 'Pulin's brother…'  
Pulin turned menacingly toward Aunie. Aunie shrank back, fearing another attack. But instead of attacking, Pulin lifted her up and set her on one of the sack beds. He shook his head at her. 'What have you gotten us into?' he sighed.  
Pulin sat beside Aunie and, facing Sam, began his explanation. 'My brother, Alesu, and I began a jewelry trade years ago. At first it was just a harmless business. We bought, sold, and traded among our own people, then among travelers, and finally we set off ourselves to find more business in the big cities. From the deep forests of Mirkwood we went to Lothlorien, Rivendell, and even a few dwarf cities. Along the way, Alesu developed a certain interest in magic jewelry. He had a hobby of it, you might say. He was endlessly studying the ways of controlling and creating such objects. I always thought he was getting himself involved in things beyond his powers, but he wouldn't listen to me. Deeper and deeper he went into the realms of possessive magic. He actually stole several wizard charms-for study purposes, he told me.   
'Well, one day we had a fight, and he went off in a huff. I expected him to return to the camp before morning. When he didn't arrive, I waited another day. Then two days. Eventually I had to move on. We had been headed to Minas Tirith. With our horses it should have taken three days, but Alesu took the horses and most of everything else. He left me only my share of the food and a few rusted bits of metal chains. Nothing worth selling or trading. In the end it took me three weeks to reach Minas Tirith due to an unfortunate meeting with a lost troll.  
'I spent quite some time in Minas Tirith re-building my business. I must have spent nearly six months there just collecting what bits of jewelry I could, sometimes earning enough money from odd jobs to purchase it, sometimes trading lembas for jewels with desperate street-dwellers, and sometimes (I regret to admit it) stealing it from recently deceased members of the city before their relatives had time to claim it.   
'Eventually I received word of my brother. He was well-learned in the arts of magic and had set up a business of his own buying and selling magic rings. Nothing but rings would do, I heard from the bringer of the news. He had rings that would do almost anything you wished. The person I heard this from, a Warrow innkeeper called Drogo something-or-other, showed me a ring he had purchased from my brother. This ring is what he used to travel throughout Middle-earth with his inn, staying and leaving whenever he got bored or the situation turned dangerous. He told me that my brother was trying to re-create the One Ring in order to use it's horrible power for his own purposes!  
'That was all of 40 years ago, and now I have learned that my brother has succeeded, at least to a certain extent. He has created a ring that mimics the power of the One Ring in all but the power to completely possess the wearer and force him to become a slave and controller of the Evil forces. To do this, he must capture in the ring the last remaining power of Sauron, which still flows strongly in a hidden part of Frodo's heart. If he succeeds, Frodo will become a wraith and the War of the Ring may yet be repeated!'  
Pulin finished his tale and looked at Sam, who sat trembling with his head bowed on the crate that had served as the stowaways' table. 'So once again it comes to this,' he murmured. His voice was a mixture of fear, rage, and unbearable sorrow that had been buried for years beneath the loyalty Sam had for his master. Aunie went to Sam and laid a small brown paw on his hand. She knew the stories. Somewhere under her childlike personality, though she didn't know it, she was ready to become the person Sam was, as Sam would become Frodo in the quest to rescue the Ringbearer.  
  



	2. Journey to Eressea

  
Chapter 2: The Journey to Eressea  
  
Back in Sam's room, Aunie and Pulin stood by the fire, both silently thanking whatever higher powers that be for the relief from the freezing cargo room. Meanwhile, Sam rustled through his papers for a record Gandalf had given him long ago describing the forces of the Ring. He had wisely decided to copy down every piece of important information from the Red Book before he gave it to his daughter Elanor.   
It was well past 2:00 a.m. but neither the hobbit nor his stowaway companions felt the need for sleep. What they needed was a plan, and Sam would stubbornly wrack his brains and go without sleep until they had one. Aunie wasn't about to let the hobbit do it on his own, either; but Pulin was nodding off to sleep even as Sam finally pulled the object of his search from a pile of old writings collected over the years from friends and family. Luckily, the description of the Ring was stacked near the top. If it hadn't been, Sam would no doubt have been detained for hours going through bits of art done by his children when they were tiny babes exploring the Shire, along with letters from Rosie, poems and songs by Merry and Pippin, and, among other things, his old Gaffer's records of "the precise way to grow things."   
Sam set up paper and pens on his desk and motioned for Aunie and Pulin to come over. Aunie leaped into the chair opposite from Sam. She, being about two feet tall, fit perfectly with the room, which had been designed specifically for the halfling. But Pulin was content to kneel beside her, since he was nearly twice the height of both otter and hobbit.   
'This is a description of the powers of the Ring,' said Sam, handing the paper to Aunie and Pulin. 'I have no doubt Alesu knows these.' Pulin nodded in agreement as he studied to paper.  
They all studied and scribbled ideas for a while. During the whole tiring process, Aunie kept uncharacteristically silent. Finally, she spoke hesitantly: 'How are we going to form a plan from this? I mean, we've got a paper listing things we don't actually know Alesu's ring can do, and we don't know where Alesu is, or how powerful he is, or how he plans to use this ring of his, or anything else except that he's related to Pulin (which does explain something),' Pulin tugged Aunie's tail.   
Sam silently stared at the papers, a look of gloom written deep in his furrowed brows.  
'She's got a point,' Pulin muttered, though he hated to admit it. Sam sighed. He got up from the table and walked to the round ship windows. There he stood with his hands clasped tightly behind his back, staring out into the darkness and the rain. At first, Aunie and Pulin simply watched, hardly able to breathe. Even though Aunie was the only one who had any true understanding of what Sam felt, Pulin did have some of his old elf sense left in him.   
Aunie slid off of the chair and went to Sam. She took his hand and, holding it tightly as a child holds the hand of their protector, she pressed her furry cheek against it. Looking up at Sam's face, she noticed tears in the eyes of her hero. These were tears that she had so often heard of from the Elders of her race when they spoke of the Great War, tears that flowed from the very deepest recesses of the heart. She reached up with her soft brown paw and gently wiped the tears away. Sam turned to the young otter. He knelt and embraced her, grateful beyond words for the understanding he had been without for so many years.   
A quiet chime echoed forth from the clock on the wall, noting that it was 4:00 in the morning. Sam stood and muttered, 'We'd best get some sleep, then.' He walked to the bed, which was really just a small human bed since true hobbit furniture was difficult to obtain on short notice, or really on any notice at all. Sam scrambled up and turned to Aunie and Pulin. 'You're both welcome to sleep wherever you want,' he said as he pulled the quilt over his feet.   
Elves rarely sleep. Pulin felt no need to sleep for the time being. Instead, he took out a small flute and began to play an elven lullaby. Aunie bustled around the room, switching off lights and putting order to the stacks of paper that were randomly sorted into ideas for 'this,' that,' and 'the other' on the table. When the room was halfway neat again, she blew out the candle-lamp near the bed and clambered up as well. Sitting at the foot of the bed, she began to sing softly with Pulin's music. It was a lullaby she knew well, as it was used more frequently among the elves' pets than anyone else.  
  


_Hush, little one.  
Come close to me now.  
I will protect you,  
I'm sure I know how.  
Listen to the music.  
Let it calm your mind.  
Leave all frightening thoughts behind.  
Oh please, don't leave me now.  
Don't cry…  
Though I can't tell you how or why,  
Still my love will last  
Through the darkest night.  
You'll be all right.  
Don't let the sun fade from your dreams.  
Nothing's as bad as it seems.  
_

  
Her deep coffee-colored eyes were focused on Sam as he drifted off to sleep. Watching him, she added words of her own to the familiar melody.  
  


_Hush, darling Sam.  
Don't be afraid.  
Imagine that the stars are a firefly parade.  
Listen to the night breeze,  
Let it ease your mind.  
Leave all doubts and fears behind.  
Everything's gonna be all right.  
Rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, darling Sam, sleep tight.  
Yes my love will last  
Through the darkest night.  
You'll be all right.  
Don't let the sun fade away.  
Please don't let the sun fade away…  
_

  
It was pure music, the kind that can be sung only once before disappearing into the heart of the listener. Sam slept peacefully. The waves rocked the great elven ship as easily as a mother rocks her babes in a cradle. The sea would keep its adventurous babes safe tonight. The melody flowing from Pulin's flute mingled with the patter of the rain against the window and the whispering crackle of the fire in the stove. Aunie curled up at Sam's feet and slowly retreated into her own dreams of happier times and her home in the dying Lothlorien.  
  
Sam awoke the next morning to the sound of Pulin and Aunie arguing about the contents of a book they had found among the shelf of old, tattered, and otherwise worn-out reading materials in a shelf on the wall. Most of the books were written in elven tongue, including the one over which an argument was being held. Sam noted with some amusement that Aunie and Pulin argued in that same flowing speech. For a while, Sam was content to lie among the warmth of the downy quilt and listen to the sounds of the language, the tones in which it rose and fell, and the way the words crashed like waves against the two speakers. Even in harsh contexts, the language of the elves sounded beautiful. Sam understood little of what was being said. The only thing Sam understood from the conversation was a phrase which was roughly translated "You are fish paste." Where he had picked up this odd phrase, Sam couldn't begin to imagine. But he knew it all the same.   
Sam sat up and looked around. Over night, the rain had stopped and the sun shone brightly through the wavy windows, making gold paint-splatter designs on the floor. In the new day's light, Sam could finally get a clear look at his two companions. The fair-faced elf, Pulin, looked older than he had the night before. Sam wondered if he wouldn't have been on this ship anyway if not for Aunie. Yes, Aunie. She had grown younger during the darkness. Now, with the sunlight reflecting off of her chocolate fur and brightening it to a shade of frozen honey, he could see that Aunie was truly little more than a child. Indeed, if the aging process for otters and hobbits were similar(which, at that point of evolution, they were), she might still have been in her late teens.   
After hearing the phrase about fish paste several more times in the course of the argument, Sam decided he'd go see what on Middle-earth was the trouble. He slipped out of bed and crept over to Aunie and Pulin on silent hobbit feet. Standing on tip-toes, he peered over Aunie's shoulder at the book. Actually, the title was You Are Fish Paste.  
Sam had no time, however, to wonder what the book might be about, or why Aunie and Pulin seemed so absorbed in their argument about it, for just at that moment Pulin noticed him hovering over Aunie's shoulder. 'Master Samwise, good morning!' he exclaimed, breaking into the common speech again. This had the effect of making Aunie jump half way to the ceiling and tumble under the table. Upon giving the matter further thought, Sam decided that he would have done the same had he suddenly realized Gandalf or someone equally as large and mysterious was standing directly behind him. Pulin seemed to think similar thoughts, but dissolved into a fit of laughter all the same. Once again Aunie tried wrapping herself around Pulin's legs. As seemed typical of these two, they were both on the floor again in a matter of seconds. Sam wondered if it wasn't some sort of talent practiced by elves and the creatures that lived among them to be able to topple out of and down from and into nearly anything imaginable and still be able to keep a conversation going.  
The fight got tedious very soon. Sam found himself hoping that, if Aunie and Pulin were going to stubbornly follow him, they might at least learn some new fighting tactics. After about five minutes, Sam reached down and took hold of Aunie's tail. He lifted her up out of the fight while Pulin was still attaching a chair. It didn't take Pulin long to realize that the chair wasn't fighting back.   
Pulin jumped up and bowed to Sam as Aunie squirmed around and climbed onto Sam's shoulders. 'Good morning,' they both chimed in perfect unity of voice.   
'Good morning,' Sam answered.   
'Did you sleep well?' Aunie asked as she brushed her claws through Sam's tangled curls. 'Boats are lovely for sleeping in.'  
'Yes, quite,' Sam agreed. He was trying to turn his eyes far enough to be able to see what she was doing to his hair. Pulin rushed off to put more coals on the fire.   
'…But I was wondering,' Sam continued, giving up on trying to see Aunie because it was making his eyes hurt, 'How we are going to hide you from the other elves on board, or should we hide you at all?'  
Pulin laughed. 'Knowing my people as I do, I should say they've probably known about us since before we got onto the ship. We're almost to Eressea. I'll bet you can see it from the deck by now.'  
'How do you know that?' Sam asked.  
'He feels it,' Aunie answered. 'He feels it. I do too, but not as strongly. It's in elf blood, and we feel it.'  
Just as the ship clock began to announce that it was 9:00 a.m., a swift knock was heard at the door. Despite Pulin's assurance that their presence was known (and therefore tolerated, Sam assumed), he grabbed Aunie off of Sam's shoulders and quickly hid them both behind a curtain near the bookshelf.  
'Come in,' Sam called. The door swung open and Corbin, the captain, ducked and stepped in. He was uncommonly tall for an elf, surpassing even the height of most men. He seemed to be forever standing in a shadow, as his ashy skin, unlike most pale elves, reflected no light. But the captain was a jolly fellow, and as he stepped in, he laughed.  
'So you've found our stowaways,' he said. His voice was deep and liquid in it's thick accents. Sam nodded in answer. 'Well, come out,' called the captain to no particular space in the room. Pulin stepped from behind the curtain with Aunie perched on his shoulders.   
Corbin looked them over, grinning from ear to ear, and spoke again. His voice echoed with the bubbly laughter that seemed as much a part of him as his body. 'Welcome to the both of you. We'll be landing shortly. I suggest you go back down to your hiding place and collect whatever belongings you don't want damaged or taken by the crew.'  
Without a word, Pulin and Aunie disappeared out of the door. Sam watched them go then looked at Corbin. 'How did you…?'  
Corbin smiled down at the little hobbit. 'There are still a great many things you will never understand, my friend. Have faith, all will be well when the end of ends arrives. That's the elven way of thought. Your comrades have been taught that since before they could understand those words. Your people are yet young, and need time to know that truth. Learn, Samwise.' With that, Corbin was gone.   
As Sam wondered over the words Corbin spoke so vaguely, he noticed that it must be long past breakfast. He stepped out onto the deck, a thing which, due to the storm, he had never done before.   
Sam walked to the braided rope railing that separated him from the emerald sea below. As he gazed down into the shimmering depths, he saw that the waters were populated by the most wonderfully shiny fish. These were unlike any fish he had seen. These were long and graceful figures that darted through the water in schools of tiny sunbeams or lone shapes with fins just touching to top of the water. Sam marveled at the way the sun glinted off of the scales of the smallest ones, the arched backs of the dolphins as the leaped from the water, the hard, indestructible shells of the sea turtles that swam by and glanced lazily up at him.   
A strong, salty wind blew from the north. Sam looked up and saw for the first time the looming hills of Eressea. They were far still, but Sam could just make out tiny specks of other boats and, towering far above the sea on a mountain cliff, a castle of immense proportions. Sam stared at the land, speechless from amazement at the grandeur of it all. As the sea wind whipped his curly hair back, he wondered why he had doubted leaving at all.  



	3. The House

Chapter 3: The House  
  
Sam stood on the docks and watched the elves unload crates and barrels of this and that. It was an hour or two past sunset. The moon was beginning to show his pale face above the mountain behind them. The dock was well lit with tall torches and light that leaked out from the fishermen's huts. Aunie and Pulin were trying unsuccessfully to start a game of "tug-o'-war" with a piece of rope they had found. The problem arose when it was discovered that not only could Pulin drag Aunie across the dock with the rope, her pulling or no, but he could also lift her up and carry her. The latter of these soon send Aunie and Pulin into a game of "catch the fish" with Aunie as the fish.  
Sam watched them half-heartedly. His mind was full of thoughts. He wanted to see Frodo badly, desperately. He was still thinking of the words Corbin had spoken to him hours ago in his room. And he wondered what ever happened to that mysterious Mr. Needles. During the entire journey, Sam had seen him only three times.   
As if in answer to his thoughts, Sam suddenly spotted a hunched figure dragging a large sack down onto the dock. Sam recognized the figure immediately as Mr. Needles. There was no mistaking the almost hunchbacked stature, the glimmering green eyes, and the strange drooping pointed hat. Sam could almost make out the strange star-patterned purple robes that he had always seen Mr. Needles draped in.   
As the figure reached the dock, he slung the sack over his shoulder and trudged off into the dark beach. Sam assumed he knew what he was doing. Perhaps he was working for the elves or something. Still, he felt suspicious of the strange little man. Narrowing his eyes, he focused his thoughts on Frodo. Soon they would be together, but not soon enough. Sam still feared the presence of the Ringwizard, Alesu. He hoped that they were not too late.  
The beach was surprisingly quiet. Although Sam could see many, many elves bustling about here and there, their feet were silent and their voices minimized to hushed whispers. Aunie and Pulin must have noticed this too, because it was not long before they quieted down and came to stand beside Sam.   
'What I'd give for a good Shire song,' Sam muttered.  
'We know some,' Aunie said. Pulin nodded.   
'We've been… around… you might say.' Meaning that Pulin and Aunie had indeed spent much time in and around the Shire before figuring out who Sam was and that he had already left for the boat… Not that they would admit as much to Sam.  
'How's the one about torches?' Aunie asked. 'I liked that one, and it's sort of fitting for the surroundings, you know.'  
Sam and Pulin agreed. They decided that Sam should start, since he knew it best. Typical.  
Sam began softly, his voice blending the melody and words to the surroundings. It wasn't exactly upbeat, but it was from home.  
  


_Burning, burning in the night  
The army's torches, oh so bright.  
They go off and lead me from my home,  
But I had sworn that I would never roam…  
  
Burning, burning far away.  
I hear you whisper 'Can't you stay?'  
Now wipe that teardrop from your eye,  
Take my hand, and promise not to cry._  


  
Aunie joined the song then, harmonizing with Sam, her voice lending strength and beauty to the melody.  


_  
Burning, burning through the days,  
The torches sing so many ways.  
They remind me of what I left behind:  
A life, and love to me was kind._  


  
Pulin joined then for the chorus, his elven voice lifting the others into a harmonized climax of music that flowed down the beaches. The elves at work paused to watch the trio.  


_Fire in the night, show me the way.  
I long to see the day  
When I return.  
Can I return?  
Let me return to you.  
  
Burning, burning ever clear,  
The torches say 'You'll never fear.'  
But I've gone, shall I ever see again  
The fields of my home in the rain?  
  
Burning, burning strong and fast,  
Shall I return to you at last?  
The torches shining through your eyes  
Make me believe such simple kinds of lies._  


  
Their voices soared, blending perfectly with each other, as they sung the final chorus:  
  


_Fire in the night, show me the way!  
I long to see the day  
When I return.   
Can I return?  
Let me return to you!  
Help me return!  
Make me return!  
I shall return to you!_  


  
There was a burst of cheers and applause from the elven crew and passengers. Sam, Aunie, and Pulin looked around with bewildered expressions for a moment. They had not been aware of the power in their music. Aunie blinked to clear the mist from her eyes, and found that there were tears on her cheeks. She looked at Sam and Pulin. Tears glistened in their eyes as well. Their faces held expressions of happy contentment, not sorrow. Aunie was learning a thing that none of her people had known before her: music is a force that can be used to one's advantage or disadvantage. The elves knew this. The hobbits had some idea, and managed to use it where it was needed. Even the orcs could keep themselves going with rough chants. But the otters were warriors, hunters, little rascals at times, but not musicians. They had few songs of their own. Of all the races of Middle-earth, the otters alone had not been granted the gift of music.   
When the elves finished their cheering, they turned back to their crates and baggage. Pulin and Aunie still stood uncertainly by Sam's side, unsure what to do. They didn't have long to wait, though. A moment later, a leather-clad wolfrider elf approached them. He was small, being one of the wolfriders, but just as graceful and beautiful as the other elves. By his side was an aging wolf. When Aunie saw this, she quickly jumped onto Sam's shoulders and curled herself around his neck, watching the wolf with narrowed eyes.  
'Do not fear, young otter,' the elf said. He bowed to the three. 'I am Stargrass, and this is my wolf-friend Lakeshine. You need not fear him,' he grinned at Aunie. 'I have come to be your guide. Follow me, I know you'll need rest after the journey.'  
Stargrass and Lakeshine walked off into the thick grass that grows on the sand. Without questioning or introducing anybody, Pulin followed. Sam, trusting Pulin's judgment of elves more than his own, kept close with Aunie still huddled around his shoulders.   
Stargrass and Lakeshine led them along a narrow path that branched from the beach into the dense forest beyond. 'The House is not far from here,' Stargrass said. Sam was about to ask what The House was, but Pulin silenced him.   
'All will be explained when we come to our resting place,' Pulin whispered. 'The Wolfrider elves are a strange race, almost more wolf than elf. They have the power to communicate silently with their wolf-friends.'  
Sam stared at Stargrass. No matter how much he knew of them, it seemed to Sam that the elves always had more secrets, more magic.   
It was not long before shimmering lights could be seen through the trees. They had almost reached the base of the mountain now. As they drew closer to the lights, Sam could just see the shadow of an enormous structure leaning out from the mountain's face. It was the biggest thing Sam had ever seen, more enormous even than the house of Elrond or the castle at Minas Tirith. There was no need for a wall, so Sam could see the building in its entirety. There was first a row of small windows, most of them with dim orange light glowing faintly from inside. Then, enormous arch-shaped windows of stained-glass. Out of each of these, multicolored light spilled out onto the gardens surrounding the castle. Above these arch windows were floors and floors of windows that were apparently shaped for variety rather than symmetry. Many of these windows had the same dim orange glow of the bottom windows, but most were either totally dark or lit by a single flickering flame. The roof of the building was a forest of chimneys that poked up from apparently random spots in the roof then gradually joined to become a single mushroom-capped brick structure.   
Sam, Aunie, and Pulin were speechless, but the same could not be said for Stargrass. When they stepped into the huge courtyard, he let out a long, loud wolf howl. Lakeshine joined in the howl, and soon there was an answering chain sounding from various parts of the mountain base and The House itself.  
When they reached the doors of the house itself, Stargrass had only to mutter a few wolf-like yips and the door was flung open. There stood a tall, beautiful elven woman.   
'Welcome,' she said in her silvery voice, 'to The House. We have been expecting you, great Ringbearer, for a long time. You and your friends are welcome to stay here as long as you wish. Stargrass will show you to your rooms.'  
The golden-haired elf stood aside and let them enter. Stargrass whispered a few soft words to his wolf-friend. Lakeshine turned and ran off into the trees. Sam fancied he saw more yellow eyes there. He wondered if there wasn't really a whole pack of wolves around. Stargrass skipped to the front of them and motioned for them to follow.  
They were led up a bright winding staircase, lit by beautiful metal lamps with frosted glass. Stargrass skipped and ran ahead, sometimes even scrambling up the stairs on all fours like a wolf, stopping every few steps to wait for Sam and Aunie. Aunie still hadn't decided it was safe to climb down onto the floor, so she contented herself with running up the railing.   
Pulin kept up easily. He apparently thought Stargrass's method of going up on both hands and feet more effective, and so, to the great amusement of the others, adopted that way for going up all the stairs. All the company was in good spirits, but Sam was still eager to see Frodo.  
When they got to their rooms, exhausted from their trek up the hundred stairs or so and from the day's travels, all three eagerly leaped onto the over-stuffed red couch that stood against the wall in these luxurious surroundings. Stargrass took a seat on the tall back of a nearby armchair facing the three. 'Any questions?' he asked.  
'When can I see Frodo?' Sam demanded.   
'Well, you see, when your friend hobbits arrived, they decided to move into a deserted cottage on the other side of the mountain. It won't take us long to get there, but we'll still have to save such a trip for tomorrow. Besides, you three need rest. A messenger went hours ago to inform Frodo of your arrival. Normally, he would have been here to greet you as soon as your boat came in, but he's getting on in years.'  
'How do you plan to get us there?' Aunie asked.  
'Through the tunnels. These mountains are full of tunnels.'  
'And exactly where are we?' Sam piped up.  
'Ah, this is the house of Galadriel. Long ago, when she and Elrond first arrived, they set up this great place together, to welcome all who arrived.' Stargrass grinned. 'I helped them do it. The House was built by elves, and can be destroyed by nothing but elf magic. Galadriel passed on years back, but The House still serves as a home for all who wish to spend their last days here.'  
Sam was decidedly uncomfortable with the last statement. A death House? Sam shuddered.  
'But what about you, Stargrass?' Pulin spoke. 'You are yet young. Surely you have not come here to fade?'  
Stargrass laughed. His laugh was reassuring to Sam's troubled heart. 'I am young! Only forty years yet are on me! I'm still a babe in the eyes of most on this island. I was born here, and have never seen anywhere else. But enough questions for tonight, you need sleep. Do not worry about sunrise, you'll sleep as long as you wish. The House is a place of healing. Sleep well.'  
With that, Stargrass hopped off of the chair and was gone. Sam, Aunie, and Pulin looked around. The room was large, but it was full of things. All sorts of things. Books, furniture, gadgets and artist materials of all shape and description. The color scheme of the room was deep forest color, lit here and there by the brightness of elven lamps, tapestries, and multicolored hues of the paint-splattered rug. It was a room built so that anyone could call it home, but especially these three country dwellers, who were used to seeing these particular shades of green mixed in with the almost sunlit floor and earthy curtains.   
There were actually three beds in the room. One was a normal elf bed, but the other two were smaller, closer to the floor. All three were equally comfortable. Resting on the pillow of the elf bed was an envelope. Pulin grabbed it and tore it open. He read the note silently, then aloud to the others.  
'The note says, "Welcome, travelers, to The House. Here you are welcome to stay or go as you please, to wander the great island at your leisure. You may stay here as long as you wish, there is more than enough room. Should you wish to leave, Eressea has many abandoned dwellings for you to choose from. If you need anything, pull the rope hanging near the door. Out on the island, our Wolfriders, one of whom you have already met, roam freely throughout and are always on hand should you get lost.   
' " In the adjoining room, baths have been prepared for you. Signed, Housemaster Voll" Well, what do you think?'  
'I think I like the sound of that last line, the one about baths,' said Aunie.  
'Well let's go!' Pulin quickly found the door and opened it to a face full of steam. He grinned. 'This is the place all right!'  
All three removed whatever garments they had on and dove into the three separate tubs of hot water. There was quite a great deal of splashing, most of it from Aunie the river-dweller. Whatever qualms the others had had about bathing in the same room as the young female were quieted by her assurance that she bathed in the river all the time with other elves.   
Presently, they grew tired of splashing each other, and their remaining energy was spent. Aunie sent Sam and Pulin out to the room to dry off and dress, stating that, 'It's not polite for men to watch a lady groom herself.' The two "men" left, of course, but giggled to each other about it while Aunie stood on the sink dripping with water and clutching a hairbrush in her paw.   
Naturally, it took Aunie the better part of an hour to finally 'make herself look presentable,' as she put it. In other words, she managed to discover the purpose of some curlers and temporary hair dye.  
Sam and Pulin were nearly rolling on the floor laughing. Even Aunie had to admit that she DID resemble a clump of weeds, the dye having turned her fur an interesting greenish color. Pulin explained with a giggle that may elves found green hair attractive and often used it as a form of camouflage.   
It was another half-hour before they were able to remove most of the green and un-curl Aunie's fur. Finally, exhausted but happy, the three travelers decided it was time to go to sleep. Pulin was the first. He backed up to the wall and ran forwards toward the bed, ending in a graceful swan-dive under the sheets. Sam was less of a gymnast, and contented himself with climbing up onto his bed. Aunie refused to sleep alone in her bed, and instead curled up next to Sam. When all were settled, Pulin flicked a little switch that dropped candle snuffers onto all the lamps around the room.   
'Aunie, sing us another lullaby.' Sam had never been comfortable sleeping in strange places.   
'Yes, please sing, Aunie.' Pulin wasn't fond of this new darkness either. In fact, none of them were. Aunie scooted closer to Sam and began to sing softly.  
  


_May marigold sunlight find refuge in dreams,  
And may you wear bright mithril too.  
May you fly on the wind and see wonderful things.  
May the night-time show kindness to you.  
  
Fall asleep and be peaceful among ivory clouds.  
Do not wake, for no monster brings pain.  
Find your comfort in things that no one else can see,  
And hear music in pattering rain.  
  
You are safe now, my dear ones, my wonderful dreams.  
You are safe now in gardens of love.  
You have wings, you can fly now. Fly safely for me!  
Let the starlight shine down from above._  


  
Sam could hear tears breaking through in Aunie's voice. He listened closely: Pulin was asleep. He heard Aunie's song suddenly change from this new lullaby to a softer version of the one she had sung not long before on the elf ship.   
  


_Sing, gentle wind,   
And wrap me up close.  
It's here in your arms that I love you the most.  
Whisper your sweet music,  
Sing it in my mind.  
Help me leave my fears behind._  


  
As if by some forces of magic that neither Sam nor his loyal friend understood, Sam joined in an answer, still following the tune of Aunie's lullaby.  
  


_Everything's gonna be all right.   
Aunie please, please be safe and sleep well tonight.  
Soon the sun will rise   
And the day will come,  
And the dark will run…_  


  
Aunie joined in the song again, finishing it with a final plea.  
  


_Oh wind, don't whisper away.  
Keep safe my heart till the day._  


  
Sam gently laid an aging hand on Aunie's soft shoulder. Aunie slept, and Sam felt as if he were home once again, sleeping with one of his own fur-wrapped babes in his arms.  



	4. Mr Needles

  
  
Chapter 4: Mr. Needles  
  
The morning arrived full of new things. Aunie was the first to awake. She jumped out of the bed and crept to one of the windows. She decided not to open the shade quite yet. Let the others sleep. Instead, she crawled under the long draping curtains. Standing on the small cushioned bench that stood hidden behind the curtains, the leaned against the windowsill and looked out. The island was beyond beautiful in the morning light. Directly below the window were gardens. But they were more than gardens. They were huge, twisting structures built out of plants. Sam would be pleased. Aunie smiled to herself and pressed her nose against the glass. To her surprise, the window creaked open under the slightest strain. She pushed the glass further, making the window swing the rest of the way open. Aunie took a deep breath. The day smelled new, like sea air and newborn flowers. This part of The House was not facing the sea, but Aunie could hear the even heartbeat of the waves pulsing against the sunburned sand almost as if it were a part of her.   
She decided to risk opening the curtains. After a moment of exploration, she discovered that they could be opened by pulling on a rope hanging from the ceiling. Grinning, Aunie took hold of the rope and climbed up the curtains clutching it in her jaws. When she got to the top, she took it in her paws and swung out, pulling the shades open.   
Golden island light spilled into the room, mingling with the sound of Aunie's soft laughter. Still attempting to be quiet enough to let them sleep, she scampered to their luggage and began sorting and re-packing for the day's journey.   
It was not long until Pulin was awakened by Aunie's bustling and muttering, no matter how much she tried to whisper and keep from giggling. He sat up, yawning, and said, 'I would expect you to be up first.'  
Aunie laughed and walked over to his bed. 'Well, why not? It's a new day, full of promise and adventure!'  
'And danger,' said Pulin. 'Don't you forget, my brother is dangerous. We're not playing adventure games any more, Aunie.'  
Aunie shrugged. 'I didn't know we ever were playing. It's not as if there's anything to go back to, though. Just think, Pulin: This is our new life. This is where we're going to call home now. Lothlorien won't ever disappear from our hearts, but it can disappear from Middle-earth right enough.' She crossed her arms, looking at Pulin. Pulin looked back, surprised at the young one's understanding of the situation. He began to wonder exactly what she did know.   
But he didn't have much time to wonder. As soon as Aunie found that his mind was elsewhere, she leaped onto his bed and attacked his feet. Growling and laughing, Pulin jumped back. Soon they were lost in an endless tangle of bedding, each trying to tie the other up in a net of sheets. It wasn't long before they both rolled right off the bed. It took them a moment to fond their way out of the sheets, but when they did, they realized that a third voice had joined in their laughter.  
Sam, as always a light sleeper, was sitting on his bed watching them. Pulin looked at Aunie and winked. Aunie grinned back in response, then they both grabbed Sam's hands and pulled him down onto the floor as well. The wrestling game was begun again, this time ending with Sam having captured both Aunie and Pulin in a net of sheets.   
Their game was ended entirely when a knock was heard at the door. Aunie ran off to answer it while Sam and Pulin got the bedding up off of the floor.   
'Good morning!' A cheery voice said as Aunie pulled the door open. It was Stargrass again. He bounded in and jumped right back onto the back of the chair he had been on the night before. 'Are you ready?' he said.  
'For what?' asked Pulin.  
'Why, to go find you hobbit, of course!'  
Aunie answered for them. 'We're packed, but I think those two need to get themselves dressed.' She pointed at Sam and Pulin, who stood looking at Aunie and Stargrass with a pile of sheets in their arms.   
'Good! Very good! When you're ready, ring the bell. Breakfast is on the main floor. See you there!' Again, the little rosy-nosed elf was gone.  
Aunie immediately took hold of the situation. 'You two get dressed,' she said, 'While I get the bags to the door. And please, put those sheets down!' Pulin was trying to get back at Sam for the sheet net capture by simply burying him in sheets. Reluctantly, the did put the sheets down. Both elf and hobbit scampered off to get dressed while Aunie worked on dragging Sam's over-stuffed sack to the door.   
Ten minutes later they were all dressed in their traveling gear and on their way down to the main floor. The result of Stargrass's instructions to "ring the bell" resulted in a band of other young elves who rushed up, grabbed their bags, and rushed away again. None of the three companions could say where their bags had been taken, but then they were too busy sliding down the railing to worry about bags.   
Aunie, Sam, and Pulin laughed and joked over breakfast. For Sam's followers, the elf food was a welcome switch from their limited cuisine of salted jerky and dried fish in the ship. For Sam, it was just pleasant to be off the boat and on sturdy land again, and near real growing plants. Elves, it seems, are really not bad gardeners. Sam would, of course, spend endless hours educating them, but for the time being, the mushrooms really weren't bad. They never are, of course. At least not to Aunie, who somehow managed to have an even stronger taste for mushrooms even than Frodo.   
When they were through with breakfast, Stargrass re-appeared and led them outside. In the back of the house, their bags had been tied to the back of a powerful horse and a smaller pony. Sam was fast friends with both animals, but preferred riding the pony. Pulin jumped onto the horse without giving the matter a second thought, while Sam mounted the pony. After a moment's consideration, Aunie decided she'd rather not risk a full-grown horse either. She scrambled onto the pony with Sam.  
When they were mounted and ready, Stargrass rode forward on Lakeshine's back. In the light of the morning, Aunie was glad to see that the wolf appeared well-fed and, for the time being, was not giving her odd looks.   
They rode on through the forest behind the house. Unlike the woods leading up from the beach, the trees here were not dense. Instead they were tall, majestic, easy to see through. The ground was on a slope, the base of the mountain. They rode for a half hour in silence, talking in their new surroundings. But a half hour was as long as Sam could bear without asking the question that had been gnawing at his mind for a long time.  
'Mr. Stargrass, how long will it take us to get to Frodo?'  
'Not long,' Stargrass called over his shoulder. 'You'll see, right up this way a bit is a tunnel entrance, and from there it's only an hour's ride through the mountain. Don't you worry, Sam, he's all right. You don't honestly think we would let him live out there alone, no matter how much he wanted us to?' Stargrass laughed. 'Of course not! We never leave anyone unprotected on this island, safe or no. There's always a chance.'  
Sam was slightly reassured by these words. He was glad his master had been looked after at least.  
The company fell into silence once more. They arrived at the tunnel sooner than expected. Lakeshine trotted right in without hesitating, but Sam and Pulin weren't too sure. They entered slower, without so much carelessness.   
'Come on, you fellows!' said Stargrass. 'My, but you're a boring lot! Don't you know any songs? This tunnel isn't quite as scenic as the woods.'  
'Sam knows one!' Aunie said. 'Sam, sing Mr. Bilbo's traveling song!'  
There really wasn't anything else to do. Sam shrugged and began, making up most of it as he went along, and adding a few old rhymes here and there.  
  


_The road goes ever on and on,  
To the lands beyond the sea.  
On a white ship will I sail,  
Watching shadows part for me.  
Here in paradise I'll stay,  
Till the day comes to an end.  
And then I'll find another way  
To get back to a waiting friend.  
  
The road goes ever on and on,  
Down from my door, and past the wood.  
There's sure to be another path  
That I would follow if I could.  
Yet I'll continue through the year,  
In every season, warm and cold.  
I'll come across both joy and fear,  
And then at last when I am old…  
_

  
Pulin took up the verse then, continuing where Sam left off.  
  


_The road will still go ever on.  
You can't get lost or veer away,  
Though you may travel left or right,  
The time will come when you shall stay.  
The road is long, it goes too far  
To ever reach the end until  
You've taken every step with care.  
Then who shall follow it? I will.  
  
The road goes ever on and on.  
You cannot stray, you cannot rest.  
The world goes by when idle feet  
Find weary places in the dust.  
Whether we stop, whether we go,  
There is a world there to explore!  
It's there for taking, if you dare.  
Now who will step from your front door?  
_

  
Aunie's turn came, and she answered Pulin's singing with her own bits of poetry.  
  


_I'll step before I learn to walk,  
Then run before I learn to stand.  
I'll loose myself in garden walls,  
And end up in a foreign land.  
Be brave and never turn your head  
To look back at the setting sun.  
Do not recall the life you led.  
Instead lay claim on spoils you've won.  
_

  
Lakeshine interrupted their song with a long, loud howl that echoed through the tunnel and came rushing back even louder than the first time. Stargrass grinned. 'We're near the end. Lakeshine knows it. Listen, you can hear the waterfall.'  
They did listen, and indeed they could hear the sound of falling water somewhere just beyond the next turn.   
It was difficult for Sam to resist the temptation to rush forward, keep running until he and Frodo were together again. But Stargrass warned that the way ahead was slippery and the tunnels twisted so that the echoes of the waterfall were deceiving and impossible to follow. So Sam followed behind, but every step seemed to be slower, smaller.   
The lamps lining the tunnel walls gradually grew to be fewer. The tunnel got wider. Finally, a brilliant light shone through from the outside. At first, all four were blinded by the glow, their eyes being used to the dim tunnel light. But as they stepped to the mouth of the cave…  
'It's beautiful,' whispered Aunie.  
'Never in all my travels have I seen such a place,' Pulin said.  
They stood in silence for a moment, each frozen in their tracks from amazement at what they saw. It was Lorien, but it was more than even that. The trees there grew taller than any trees ever seen. The leaves were varying shades of the richest gold to the brightest red. Autumn had come to the valley, but it was like spring in a fancy gown.   
Stargrass finally turned to the stone stairs that led down the edge of the cliff they stood on. The stairs had been carved out of the rock itself. They were covered by a roof of smooth black stone. Like the tunnel, it was impossible to look down and see the end, for the stairs also twisted along the mountain's side.   
Sam, Pulin, and Stargrass climbed off their mounts to make it easier for the animals to climb down the stairs. They began walking, the sound of the waterfall growing louder with each step. As they got further down, they could feel a mist rising from below. It was a pleasant, cooling feeling. Soon, drops of water began to appear from the roof of the stair, growing quicker and closer together with each step they took until they were walking behind the waterfall itself.  
The party slowed its steps in order to take in the feeling. With each new place came a new feeling, one unique to itself. There, standing behind the waterfall with the sun just shining through, they felt what it was like to be travelers once more. They were reminded of the mystery of each step on a long journey, the excitement of not knowing what will happen next, the calm of simply walking with a friend. They viewed once more in their heart's eye fleeting moments of what it had been like to feel the sun rising on a dew-covered field, the uncertainty of simply walking on, wondering if it would really be all right at last, the final burst of hope that comes with the moments just before the quest is completed.  
All this they felt flowing from the sunlight and the waterfall. They trembled as they walked on, for although they could not put to words what they were feeling, they knew well what it was. They were feeling their own re-birth into a new and glorious world.   
At the bottom of the stairway was the beginning of a bridge. The waterfall continued in a thin yet constant stream all around the travelers. Through the wavy transparent water, they could just make out a bridge going across a larger body of water. Stargrass went first onto the bridge. He placed his hands in the falling water, then slowly parted them. The water followed Stargrass's hands, making a misty doorway into the valley. Stargrass looked back, then walked forward onto the bridge. Pulin followed, leading his horse by the reins. Sam went after. The pony, with Aunie perched on it's back, followed Sam.   
'It's not really a matter of security,' Stargrass was explaining to Pulin, 'As it's just something that adds to the magic of this place. This is an island of All Magic. Every magic that has ever existed exists now, either in use or written down in Galadriel's Books.'  
'But what of the evil magic?' asked Sam.   
'Magic is not good or evil,' Stargrass laughed. 'It's a matter of usage. Just like words. You can use words to comfort, to make someone laugh, or you can kill them with words.'  
At the end of the bridge was a small clearing in the trees. The grass was a shade of perfect green, and softer than even Aunie's featherlike fur. It was nice to feel earth underfoot again, especially for Sam, who was none too fond of feeling cold rocks in the morning.   
Pulin climbed back onto his horse, but Sam and Stargrass preferred walking. Stargrass set his wolfmount loose to run for a while and walked beside Sam.   
'Frodo's house is just a little ways up this path,' said Stargrass. 'We ought to be there before long. It's not a quarter hour's walk from here, I'd say.'  
Sam was silent. He had no reply to give in words. Instead, he set his eyes to the path ahead, willing them to see through trees to his master.  
With each step closer to Frodo, Sam clasped the reigns of his pony tighter. He was anxious to see his master, his friend. Anxious to assure himself that Alesu, the wielder of Evil, had not arrived yet.  
'Just over this next hill,' Stargrass said. Without giving it a second thought, Sam let go of the pony and broke into a run. Aunie looked at Stargrass from her perch on the pony's back, then, with a few gentle words to the pony, sped off after him.   
Not since the Quest to the Mountain had Sam run with such determination. He heard nothing, saw nothing except the hidden shady house up ahead that would be the end of his wandering in the world. Aunie followed close behind, clinging to the pony's long mane.   
Suddenly, as if he had run into some kind of force field, Sam stopped not five yards from the house. Hidden in the foliage of the forest floor, he slowly crept nearer, his eyes narrowed. Something was amiss. He sensed it. Aunie sensed it too. She whispered to the pony again and jumped off, scampering over to Sam. They crouched in the leaves for a moment, looking at the darkened hobbit-like dwelling. It was an elven-built house that had been piled over with dirt to look like a hobbit hole. But there was something wrong. The front door stood open, though there was no strangeness in that. However, there was a feeling of silence. It was too quiet.   
Sam and Aunie went forward and looked into the door of the house. The inside was a mess. It had apparently been ransacked, and looked like nobody had been there for a day at least.   
A look of rage spread across the face of Samwise. He knelt in the scattered leaves at the front door and stared into the dark hallway. Aunie stepped forward, inspecting every scent and footprint she could find. Magic had been used here. She, who was so near to the elves, had learned to feel that.   
Sam's hand brushed against a dried leaf. The leaf, and others beside it, crackled and floated away, almost shunning the touch. Sam looked down. Instead of feeling the rug, he felt paper. It was an envelope. Quickly he picked it up and looked at it. Aunie turned and went back to Sam, having heard the sudden motion.  
The envelope had no address on it. Sam opened it and took out the thin bit of parchment inside. He unfolded it and looked at it. It was what he had feared. The letter read:  
_Hobbit Samwise,  
Frodo sends his apologies for not being there to greet you. It seems there was a slight change in the plans. By the time you read this, I will have full control over him, and growing power over your elf friends. Too bad. Life's not fair, is it?  
  
Signed,  
Alesu Needles_  
  
'Curse him!' cried Sam. Just then, Stargrass and Pulin came running in. They were out of breath from running. Pulin had his sword drawn.  
'Quickly,' said Pulin, 'We must get out of here.'  
'We must save Frodo!' Aunie said.  
'Of course, but we have to find him first,' said Stargrass. 'This island is big. There's no telling where Frodo's been spirited off to.'  
'Yes there is!' said Aunie. 'Follow me, I know the way!'  
There seemed to be no choice in the matter. Aunie ran out, and the others followed. The three mounts stood waiting nervously near the house. The horse and pony would have bolted had Lakeshine not stopped them.   
Stargrass, Sam, and Pulin climbed onto their mounts. Aunie kept running, her eyes traveling from the ground to the mountain. Even Stargrass, on the back of his mighty wolf Lakeshine could barely keep up with the otter. She was possessed with a kind of elven magic, asleep in her for years, now awakened by the need to help the hero who once had saved all of Middle-earth.  
They ran on tirelessly. Up the mountain they went, climbing higher and higher. The day wore on with the sound of the chase echoing through the rocks. Hooves against stone, paws on grass, nothing was silent in this mountain.  
As twilight reddened the stones with its blood red glare, Aunie and the riders pulled themselves onto the top of the mountain with their last remaining strength. They were greeted by a low, creaking voice, worn by years of toil in unfamiliar places.  
'You were faster than I expected.'  
Fur bristled, eyes narrowed, claws extended. The small mutated elven figure stood before them with a leash in his hand. On the other end of the leash was Frodo, his eyes wide and glazed, his head tilted slightly, back bent for lack of effort even to stand.   
Alesu, Mr. Needles, laughed. 'Did you really think you could simply come up here and beat me in my own game, you fools? Never! Here stands my prize, and you four shall be my trophies when the hunt is up. Fool, hunt!' Alesu shouted at the body that once was Frodo, tied to the leash. At the sound of Alesu's commanding voice, Frodo straightened up. A red glint came into his eyes. He drew his sword and ran towards Pulin.  
'Stop!' called Aunie. She leaped up and ran at Alesu. Even as his maniacal laughter rang through her ears, she jumped onto him, knocking him down easily. Working by instinct now, she moved with the speed of a striking snake, holding Alesu's hands down here, tackling his head there. She grabbed the hand that held the leash and bit down with all her might.  
Alesu screamed in pain. Blood dripped form his hand as he let go of the leash. Frodo, who had been fighting a mindless sword battle with Pulin and Stargrass, stopped suddenly, hesitating. Aunie grabbed the ring from Alesu's hand and pulled until it was off. As soon as the ring lost contact with Alesu, Frodo collapsed.   
'FOOL OTTER!' Alesu shouted. He staggered to his feet, his bleeding hand hanging at his side. Aunie ran behind Pulin, Stargrass, and Sam, who stood with their swords pointed at Alesu/Mr. Needles.   
'Let her go.' Sam commanded. He stepped forward with the sword in his hand. 'Leave this island, or you shall be killed.'  
Alesu growled in rage. His hand slipped into his pocket. Clutching another magic talisman, he charged at the three sword wielders, shouting some obscure magic language.   
Stargrass leaped onto Alesu, but not before Alesu had a chance to draw his sword and do some damage of his own. He cut Sam along the arm, and Pulin along the leg. But Stargrass was too quick to allow any serious harm to be done. Tugging Alesu by the back of his hair, he tossed him onto the ground. Stargrass held him down with his foot while Pulin tended to half-conscious Sam. Aunie stood nearby, holding the ring.  
'You silly ass,' said Stargrass. 'Did you really think you could do this, really beat us with your silly trinkets and hypnotizing spells? Curse you! You filthy slime. I should kill you here and now just for setting foot on my home.'  
Pulin interrupted, pulling Alesu up. 'I never thought you would stoop this low.' His voice was sad as he looked at his brother. 'Leave. Leave now and we will let you live.'  
'Never.' Alesu's voice was hard and cold, unrepentant, unforgiving. He raised his arm and hurled his sword at Aunie, even as Stargrass moved to stop him. As Alesu's sword traveled towards its mark, so did Stargrass's. But as Aunie leaped aside to avoid the flying metal, Alesu was trapped.  
In the end, it was the Ringwizard who lied dead on the mountain.  



	5. Home

Chapter 5: Home  
  
Frodo opened his eyes and sat up on the mountain. He looked around. Stargrass stood over the cold figure of Alesu. Pulin turned his face from his brother, tears falling from his eyes. Beside him, a weary and frightened child-otter stood over Sam.  
Sam. Could it be? Frodo scrambled weakly to his friend, who he had not seen for so long. Frodo reached out to touch Sam's face, to make sure what he was seeing was real.   
Stargrass turned to Sam and Frodo, Reaching down, he placed a hand on Sam's wound, healing it with the touch. Sam's eyes fluttered open. He looked up into the face of his master.  
'I've come home,' he whispered.  
Frodo took Sam's hand and helped him up. The two hobbits stood there looking at each other. 'I've come home,' Sam said again.  
Eyes into eyes, a life to a life, and finally, Sam held Frodo in his arms again. Both caught in an embrace that spoke of years alone, they wept.   
  
Back at Frodo's house, Sam sat before the fire going through all he had written since Frodo left. Aunie watched, mesmerized by the movement of the pages and the language of Sam's descriptions. Stargrass kept close, tending to the fire and the wounds of the otter child. She was now also a Ringbearer, for all the time Alesu had fought physically, he had fought her mentally. Pulin slept and brooded over the situation.  
After they had gone through Sam's notes, and all the telling of tales was done, Frodo said 'You are all welcome to stay here if you wish.'  
Pulin and Stargrass declined the offer. They were elves. They intended to stay with elves, to die with elves. But Aunie would stay. She would stay and learn all that Frodo and Samwise had written, and live to carry on the stories after they were gone.  
So the next morning, Stargrass and Pulin packed their things and left. Frodo, Sam, and Aunie stood at the door and watched them leave before turning back to the warm fire and soft blankets. As they sat together on the sofa, Frodo with his arm around Sam's shoulders and Sam with Aunie in his lap, they hummed a final song of home.  


_  
Where are the haystacks of my youth  
Where so long, so long I would lie?  
So long, so long to the music  
Whispering from the azure sky.  
  
I've traveled far and laughed too little  
Since I stepped outside my door.  
Come look into my eyes and notice  
One more story, just one more.  
  
And after all, we've spent our time  
Away, away from clover fields.  
Our fingers have been pricked. We've found  
The thorn that even our rose yields.  
  
Rejoice, my friends, for days are long  
And nights are ever longer.  
Rejoice in prisons forged of steel.  
Your hearts grow ever stronger.  
  
Where are the forests of my youth  
Where so long, so long I explored?  
So long, so long to the music  
Whispering from beyond my door.  
  
I've grown too old to hear the fairies  
Dancing in their mushroom rings.  
My heart is weary of the wanderings  
And the spell their music brings.  
  
Children live to see the sun,  
They love to drink the rain.  
Now rain is bitter to my lips.  
Shall I ever taste again?  
  
Yes, I taste and drink so deep  
I taste and find my home.  
Now here again I'll see you safely  
Back from where you've roamed._  


  
As the last notes of the song faded, all three nodded off to sleep. They were home at last.  
  


**The End**


End file.
